


The Greatest Regret

by emanthony



Series: The Biggest Change [6]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Overstimulation, Sex Pollen, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emanthony/pseuds/emanthony
Summary: Kurapika was in love with Leorio and it had ruined both of their lives. --Kurapika requests Hisoka's assistance on a bounty. It doesn't exactly go the way he imagined.





	

Kurapika was in love with Leorio and it had ruined both of their lives. 

 

Kurapika said the words aloud, eventually, when he couldn’t push them down after years of trying: _I love you, Leorio_. The consequences echoed between them both, leaving bruises and scars. Leorio loved Kurapika too -- but not in that way. They ended a professional partnership and their personal relationship as friends, and Kurapika found himself alone for the first time in a decade. He hadn’t walked alone on the planet since joining the Hunter Exam, over ten years ago. He stepped away from the Zodiacs and Leorio altogether. An untethered man.

 

What had he done?

 

“Kurapika?”

 

He jerked, fingers tightening on the phone he had pressed to his ear. He’d forgotten he had even dialed. He had forgotten where he was; what he was doing. He needed to sleep. Eventually. He cleared his throat and said, “Hello, Hisoka.”

 

“Hi.”

 

The way the one syllable rolled out from the receiver set Kurapika’s nerves on edge. He stared out into the hotel room where he had been housed for the past three months alone. He watched the sun filter up through the curtains as day broke. It was early for a call, but Kurapika was convinced Hisoka never slept. “I have a job I’ll need assistance on. It’s from the Hunter database.”

 

“A bounty?” Hisoka asked.

 

“Yes. A man named Napa.”

 

“Haven’t heard of him,” Hisoka said, as if he were somehow in touch with the comings and goings of the Hunter world. The idea was laughable; Kurapika scoffed.

 

“His reward is three million. And I’d be happy to divide it evenly for your assistance.” Kurapika wasn’t interested in the money as much as he was interested in having warm blood drip from his own two hands. Napa was integral in housing the Ryodan several years ago, a fact that was only recently discovered by Kurapika himself. The Hunter organization -- the Zodiacs, in fact -- had taken the information and created a simple bounty. But they all knew: Kurapika would bring the man’s head on a pike -- hopefully figuratively. “He’s a manipulator type who worked for Chrollo years ago and is still under some kind of protection that would be too difficult to infiltrate alone.”

 

“Sounds fun.”

 

Kurapika nodded, though he couldn’t be seen, sitting on the edge of his bed in Yotok City. 

 

“May I ask why you’ve called on me?” Hisoka said, tone a bit too much of a song to be taken seriously.  “What about Gon?”

 

“He does not enjoy these kind of missions.”

 

“He wouldn’t. Such a good boy.”

 

Kurapika couldn’t disagree.

 

“And what of Leorio?” Hisoka asked. 

 

A chill ran down his spine. “I am hanging up,” Kurapika said. “I will send you the information.”

 

“O~k,” Hisoka said. “Bye-bye.” 

 

And that’s why he had called Hisoka. Aside from the fact he was a beast on the battlefield, he had never, in all the years they’d known each other, questioned Kurapika’s intentions.

 

It figured that the most carefree person he knew was additionally the most blood-thirsty.

 

Kurapika dropped his phone to the floor and fell back on his bed. He was sticky with sweat and still dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt, but he was also exhausted, so he let himself get pulled under into unconsciousness. In a few hours’ time, he’d be back at work.

 

But until then, he got to dream of Leorio and the life they had before he’d ruined everything.

 

* * *

 

 

“If you kill me, you’ll regret it,” Napa said.

 

Kurapika put a bullet between his eyes. One simple snap and there was an explosion of bright red splatter that fanned out across the air, catching the midday light. It rained across Kurapika’s face. 

 

Hisoka was perched in a tree at the end of the empty field. They had chased Napa all the way out there until he finally stopped to face them. Kurapika didn’t even bother with powers. A bullet did just fine.

 

He turned around and looked up at Hisoka, squinting through the blood.

 

Hisoka smiled. “Should we take his head?”

 

“It’s not a literal head hunt,” Kurapika said.

 

“You don’t want to mount it on your wall of trophies?”

 

“They aren’t trophies,” Kurapika hissed. “The eyes of my clan -- are --” he stopped talking. A sudden warmth blossomed in his middle and his vision dimmed. He stumbled to the side as a tingling pulse invaded his limbs. “They are…” He collapsed to his knees.

 

“Oh dear,” Hisoka said. “Are you alright, Pika?”

 

“Don’t call me that,” he said, voice hoarse. The warmth turned into a blazing heat and he shuddered, collapsing down onto the grass. “His nen --” Kurapika managed to choke out. He shot a look at Hisoka, eyes wide and glassy. In death, nen did unpredictable things. Napa was a manipulator, capable of bending others to his will. Often through seduction. His death had apparently heightened his powers, essentially pinning Kurapika with a curse.

 

Hisoka smiled and slipped from the tree, before crouching at Kurapika’s side. “Are you okay?”

 

Sweat had broken out across Kurapika’s skin and his limbs were twitching, out of control, but he was breathing, at least. His heart rate had picked up significantly, so he lay panting in the dried grass and dirt, the blue cotton of his Kurta robe now dirt-streaked and blood-stained. He narrowed his eyes. 

 

Hisoka laughed. “Should I help you up?”

 

“Don’t touch me,” Kurapika said. Then, stiffly, he nodded.

 

Hisoka reached down and slid his hands beneath Kurapika to help him move upright. 

 

Kurapika’s thoughts swirled, drifting out of coherency. “Oh,” he said. Hisoka’s hands were like a pulse against his arm and chest. Kurapika’s mouth flooded with saliva at the same moment he thought: _I want him_. He immediately recognized the desire as an absurdity and choked out, “No.”

 

“What is it?” Hisoka said.

 

“Arousal,” Kurapika managed. “It’s his blood. The nen… Oh.” His eyes rolled back as a pulse of desire racketed down his throat, his chest, between his legs. “Please don’t touch me,” he managed. “If I ask -- don’t…”

 

Hisoka just smiled and scooped him up bridal-style. He wasn’t wearing sleeves; the swell of his biceps pressed up against the back of Kurapika’s thigh and against his shoulder blades. He was searing hot but Kurapika pressed in closer to his chest, grasping at him.

 

Kurapika’s mouth opened, breath short. He stared at the swell between Hisoka’s pecs, visible through the slit in his black top. The line traced up, to his throat. His skin was so smooth and white --

 

He saw a bead of sweat slide from the back of Hisoka’s golden hair. Kurapika slid his hands up, touching Hisoka’s throat and he pressed his nose there, into the damp heat behind Hisoka’s ear. He smelled warm. Spicy. And sweet, too. Kurapika’s cock pulsed and he felt himself twitch. Somewhere, in the horny daze of his mind, a weak voice whispered, _stop_. A stronger urge said: _fuck him until you fall apart._ He managed to jerk back from where he was nosing at Hisoka’s neck like a horny teen at the movies.

 

Hisoka seemed completely unaffected, moving rapidly to where they had left their vehicle. He didn’t even bother to cast a glance at Kurapika as he fastened him into the passenger seat of their rented car. “I’m not a very good driver,” Hisoka said. “You’ve put me out.” 

 

Hisoka slid into the driver’s seat. He started the car and pulled away, glancing into the rearview mirror and then straight ahead again, lips pursed. He didn’t have a license; Illumi was the one who drove, the one with a car. Kurapika knew it. He shook his head, mind a fog of incoherent desire and fear.

 

That didn’t matter. Another pulse hit him. His body began to conjure images of sex from the past; when he’d been on his knees last, covered in cum. The first time he’d come while getting fucked. The first time he’d slept with a stranger, pushed up against the wall, robes shoved aside just enough for the man to stroke their cocks together. Kurapika moaned, audibly, hands sliding up into his own hair and pulling.

 

Hisoka hummed as he messed with the buttons on the dash, bringing the stereo to life. 

 

Kurapika jerkily pressed the butt of his hand against his clothed erection, eyes squeezed shut. Hisoka smelled good, seated in the driver’s seat. He had never driven for any length of time and yet he moved fluidly in the car, graceful as always. Hisoka could do anything naturally, at first try. Was he as graceful in bed? His powers were so unique. He could use them while fucking, surely. He'd probably done it before. He could pin Kurapika down with bungee gum. And Hisoka’s fingers were so long; they’d feel so good inside of him -- Kurapika wanted it more than anything he’d wanted in his life.

 

Hisoka seemed intent to ignore him, even as Kurapika squinted his eyes open, and stared openly, hungrily, at the profile of his face.

 

“Pull over,” Kurapika said. “Fuck me.”

 

“Oh?” Hisoka blinked over to him. “Aren’t you a top?”

 

“You’re not funny,” Kurapika choked out.

 

The car fell silent save for Kurapika’s panting breath. After several minutes on the road, Hisoka’s voice filled the air, and the sound of it was enough for Kurapika to clutch at his cock again. “Illu,” Hisoka said. “I don’t know how to get home.”

 

Kurapika looked up from where he had his face pressed against his knees. Hisoka was on his phone.

 

Hisoka smiled, still watching the road. “You’ll be mad if I tell you.”

 

Kurapika felt the heat spread into his gut again. 

 

“Kurapika received a nen curse,” Hisoka said. “Our target's blood is some sort of sex poison.” A pause. “No, I’d dressed myself in Texture Surprise. I’m untouched.” He chuckled after another pause. “You sound disappointed. You can take care of Kurapika instead, if you want.”

 

Kurapika gasped into his hands. There was a pause as Hisoka listened to the other end of the phone.

 

“Mm, do you think so? I’ll come home. Can you direct me?”

 

Another pause.

 

Hisoka’s voice went into a full purr, “You’re too sweet, Illu, love.”

 

That voice by itself was enough to have Kurapika scrambling to fist his cock again. 

 

“Thirty minutes out,” Hisoka announced. He blinked yellow eyes at Kurapika and smirked. 

 

“Please,” Kurapika said, voice cracking. He was asking for many things: don’t repeat this to anyone. Don’t tell them what you’ve seen. Don’t fuck me. Do fuck me. Please, please, please. He sobbed, turning his face into his hands, folded over his lap.

 

“You have bad luck,” Hisoka said, and Kurapika squeezed his eyes closed again.

 

* * *

 

 

The flat that Hisoka and Illumi owned was surprisingly stylish, with all low-profile furniture and slick white walls and gleaming wood floors. It was large, too, because in the five minutes since waking, Kurapika still hadn’t managed to find either Illumi or Hisoka.

 

He was clear-headed now. Well, mostly. He had a headache to rival all he’d ever experienced before now and it was only amplified by the memories from the night previous.

 

Hisoka had carried him squirming up to his home, where Illumi waited, long black hair in a silken braid over his shoulder. His face was as impassive as ever, stone white like a statue, even when Kurapika reached out without meaning to and touched the corner of his mouth.

 

Kurapika’s memory blinked in and out as he walked around the apartment in the light of day, barefoot and dressed in oversized spare clothes that smelled like fresh laundry. 

 

_ He remembered Hisoka grinning as they undressed him, together, and he remembered the searing disappointment when they only pushed him into the shower, rather than touching him, together.  _

 

_ He remembered saying, “I can take both of you at once. I want to. Please.” _

 

_ He remembered Illumi’s big black stare, impassive and watching.  _

 

_ He remembered them feeding him some sort of pill and putting him to bed.  _

 

_ “You did not sleep with him?” Kurapika heard Illumi ask, eyes fallen shut. _

 

_ “No,” Hisoka said. “Would you be jealous?” _

 

_ “Why did you not sleep with him?” _

 

_ “Hmmm. It’d be distasteful.” _

 

_ “And what before now?” _

 

_ “What do you mean?” Hisoka asked. _

 

_ Kurapika heard the shuffling of fabric. “You have never had sex with him?” _

 

_ “No.” _

 

_ “Have you not wanted to?” _

 

_ “He was young when we met,” Hisoka said. “I had other interests at the time.” _

 

_ “But you would have sex with him now.” _

 

_ “You’re jealous.” _

 

_ “No.” _

 

_ “You are. How sweet.” _

 

_ “I find him beautiful, too.” _

 

_ “Oh?” _

 

_ Kurapika heard the smile in Illumi’s voice when he said, “Are you jealous?” _

 

_ “No. Aroused,” Hisoka said, voice gone quiet. There was a quiet thunk, like a body pressed against a wall. And then silence. _

 

_ Kurapika fell asleep. _

 

Kurapika finally looked out the windows in the living room and spotted them together on the terrace outside. The one place in the apartment he hadn’t looked -- he hadn't thought to. He pushed open one of the large glass doors and Illumi and Hisoka turned their heads his way. 

 

Hisoka smiled and Illumi said, “Hello.”

 

They were seated on one chair, with Illumi on the arm, feet tucked into Hisoka’s lap. Hisoka had his ankles crossed in front of him, slouched comfortably, one hand tucked against Illumi’s knee and the other holding a mug of something warm. They were so casually intimate that Kurapika was momentarily stunned.

 

He shook it off and stepped outside. “Good morning.” He let a beat pass before saying, “Thank you.”

 

“You are welcome,” Illumi replied. 

 

Kurapika ground his teeth together before dropping into a deep bow. “I don’t think I can apologize properly for what happened, but I want to turn over the bounty to you entirely. For the trouble.”

 

“Are you embarrassed?” Hisoka asked. 

 

Kurapika’s head jerked up to look at them, and Hisoka was smiling -- not unkindly -- and Illumi was statuesque again. Kurapika knitted his brows and nodded once.

 

Hisoka tilted his head.

 

Kurapika dropped his head again. “It’s the least I can do.”

 

“He is shy,” Illumi said, as if the concept just dawned on him. “I see.”

 

Kurapika stood up, stiffly, and watched Hisoka look up to Illumi with warm gold eyes. “I’m going to leave,” Kurapika said, finally. “I’ll have the money wired to your account.”

 

Illumi pushed off of the chair, stretching his long legs as he stood. “You may stay, if you would like to recover more."

 

The headache pulsed behind Kurapika’s eyes. He squeezed them shut. “I can’t.”

 

“The robes of your Kurta clan are being professionally dressed. If you stay another day, you will be able to take them,” Illumi said. He stopped in front of Kurapika, who slowly looked up at him. He was as tall as Hisoka. Perhaps taller -- but his face was much softer. 

 

In fact, this close, the resemblance to Killua was almost uncanny. Something tugged at Kurapika’s heart. A feeling he usually had great power over: _he missed his friends_. It was like a blow when he was already so weak. He didn’t have the power to argue. Not now. Finally, he nodded. “If it’s alright. I’ll go sleep.”

 

Illumi moved by and re-entered the apartment without a word. Hisoka continued to sip his drink. Kurapika glanced from him to the door and back again. The early light of the morning made the situation seem even more surreal. He’d heard rumors of their relationship -- marriage, some said. It had sounded absurd.

 

It appeared completely true. 

 

“You’re married,” Kurapika said, just to clarify.

 

Hisoka pulled up one leg, bare foot tucked behind his knee, and grinned. No response.

 

“...Did you take his name?” Kurapika asked.

 

Hisoka’s mirth dropped like a stone in water. He frowned. “It’s a matter of debate.” He closed his eyes, downright pouting. 

 

The headache pulsed again, accompanied with another sour feeling --

 

_ Jealousy. _

 

* * *

 

 

“Did you know that when you’re aroused, your eyes are red?”

 

Kurapika’s face scrunched. “That’s untrue.”

 

“It was true yesterday,” Hisoka said.

 

“Our eyes --”

 

“Your eyes,” Hisoka corrected.

 

Kurapika’s mouth snapped shut. 

 

“How’s the spider hunt going?” Hisoka asked, grinning ear to ear. He knew what he was doing; Kurapika felt the low grade of fury bubble in his gut and kept it there, still.

 

“We shouldn’t discuss this around Illumi,” he said.

 

“Hm?” Hisoka glanced over to Illumi seated beside Kurapika at the breakfast bar in their kitchen. It was dinner time and they were all picking at their meal of smoked pork. Tense and awkward. Kurapika looked and felt bruised in every way. 

 

“His brother is one of them,” Kurapika said.

 

“Kalluto didn’t kill your clan. Was he even born yet?” Hisoka asked.

 

“He’s one of them,” Kurapika said. His eyes flashed red before settling into blue again.

 

Illumi looked to him and as quickly as lightning striking the earth, a pulse of murderous nen filled the kitchen, ricocheting from the smooth white surfaces. “Do you intend to bring harm to my family?”

 

Hisoka shivered visibly, but from the thrilled gleam in his eyes it was all entirely based in lust. 

 

Kurapika turned his head away. “No. I wouldn’t do that to Killua.”

 

Silence surrounded them, until the aura in the space evaporated. “I see,” Illumi said.

 

Kurapika looked back at Illumi. “I don’t think I could kill you,” he said.

 

“You would be incapable of it, yes,” Illumi agreed. “Why?”

 

“I believe I could defeat Hisoka in a fight,” Kurapika said. “But not you.”

 

Hisoka was practically vibrating with want. “We can find out, Pika.”

 

“I believe Hisoka would defeat you,” Illumi said.

 

Kurapika snorted and looked back down to his plate. 

 

“He fights with high-grade trickery,” Illumi said, “And you are vulnerable emotionally.”

 

“I’m not,” Kurapika said. He felt hollow and empty. He _was_ empty, wasn’t he?

 

“You're so mean but still vunerable,” Hisoka said. “It’s so interesting to watch.”

 

“That’s untrue.”

 

“It’s quite true,” Hisoka argued. “It’s why you’re so unlucky.”

 

Kurapika pushed his plate away, squeezing his eyes shut again. 

 

“It is true,” Illumi said. 

 

Kurapika stood up out of the stool, fury running through his veins now. He leaned into Illumi, hands boxing him in. “And you feel nothing?”

 

Illumi blinked up with impossibly black eyes. 

 

Kurapika stared back with eyes of pure glowing red. “You don’t have any such weaknesses.”

 

He wanted to destroy him. He wanted to destroy Hisoka. This house. This home. 

 

And how infuriating it was to be here, to see this relationship. They had a house. A home. He’d never had a home, not in more than a decade, not ever like this -- fury blinded Kurapika entirely, whiting out everything except aching, unstoppable need. The kitchen filled with aura again. Red this time.

 

He slid a hand into Illumi’s hair and forced him into a kiss. 

 

There was no resistance. Illumi tilted his head, even when Kurapika bit at his lips. Illumi’s response was to slide his hands up Kurapika’s back, pulling him in close. Kurapika licked at the bloodied seam of his mouth until Illumi opened, and their teeth clinked. 

 

And for every snarling, painful bite, Illumi’s hands responded gently, sliding up to Kurapika’s shoulders and back down to his lower back, soothing and cool. When Kurapika opened his eyes, he saw Illumi looking over his shoulder. 

 

There was a line of heat against Kurapika’s back as Hisoka leaned in. He pressed a chaste kiss to Illumi’s red-bitten mouth, and Kurapika watched as Illumi’s eyes fell closed, the fan of his black lashes pressed gently against his cheek. 

 

Snarling anger lashed out of him again. 

 

Kurapika grabbed the front of Hisoka’s shirt, a black cropped top with gold banding, and shoved him back. He was an entire head taller than Kurapika, but he pulled, hard, until their lips collided. But as much as Kurapika lusted for power, to destroy, he was still weak in the face of Hisoka’s natural size. He was pushed back easily, until Hisoka placed him into Illumi’s lap, tongue still lapping at his mouth.

 

Kurapika had the vague thought that Hisoka was as good at kissing as he’d thought he’d be; wet pressure sent jolts that had his cock hard in seconds flat. 

 

Illumi pushed apart his legs and hooked his thighs on either side, so he was spread eagle in front of Hisoka. Hisoka tasted of their pork dinner and something much sweeter, too. When his tongue stroked the top of Kurapika’s mouth, Kurapika bit down, and groaned at the copper taste that followed. 

 

Hisoka’s hands were on his hips and he pushed back, until he was sat flush against Illumi. Flush against the hard line of his cock, which fit against the seam of Kurapika’s ass, covered in only the soft material of the borrowed sweatpants that were much too big and suddenly far too hot. At Hisoka’s guidance, Kurapika grinded back, which spurred Illumi’s hands to slide around his middle, pulling up his shirt, exposing his body. Illumi and Hisoka were coordinated like dancers or lovers who’d done this together thousands of times before; Hisoka pulled back long enough for the shirt to fall discarded to the floor and tugged at the sweats as Illumi bumped Kurapika up for them to drop down, until they were too in an abandoned pile. 

 

He was falling apart; all the fury and lust were consuming his mind, not unlike the day before. He found himself gasping for air when Hisoka pulled off his mouth and kissed the column of his throat instead. Illumi slid a hand down his flat stomach until it reached the base of his cock. He gripped it hard, sending a needy breathless sound tumbling from Kurapika’s mouth. 

 

So now, in the middle of their kitchen, Kurapika was naked, seated with his back against Illumi’s chest, with Hisoka standing before them both, grinning. Both he and Illumi were fully dressed. The legs of the bar stool scraped precariously against the floor as Hisoka pushed in close to them both, but not once did Kurapika think, “This is a bad idea.”

 

He hardly had any thoughts at all.

Hisoka dropped to his knees but before Kurapika could grab at his hair or shoulders, Illumi snatched both of his wrists. Kurapika tried to pull away and found he couldn’t, held completely immobile. 

 

He’d never been so turned on by anything in his life.

 

He cried out when Hisoka’s mouth closed around his cock, tongue flat against the underside. Before he could thrust up into the wet heat, Hisoka pushed him back. Illumi held him fast, and then spread his own knees, so Kurapika’s legs stretched farther apart. The burn of the stretch in his thighs made his breath short. 

 

His vision swam. He couldn’t move. Spit slid down his cock, over the swell of his balls, pooling into Hisoka’s awaiting fingers. 

 

Kurapika remembered thinking of it yesterday, how good it would feel to be finger fucked by Hisoka. It was better than his lust-cursed mind conjured, being penetrated; or maybe it was that he wanted it more now than he ever did while drunk on Napa’s blood. 

 

“God,” he choked out. “Oh, god.”

 

Illumi kissed his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and then his lips when Kurapika tilted his head back to meet him, and like they were supernaturally coordinated, Hisoka added another finger then, too, and began to fuck Kurapika in earnest. 

 

Kurapika’s mouth fell open, kisses wet and sloppy -- uncoordinated and filled with gasping pleas. It was so good; it was better than he thought it’d be, and god, he wanted -- “Fuck me,” he said hoarsely against Illumi’s mouth. 

 

Hisoka, fingers pulling in and out of his ass, tongued the slit of Kurapika’s cock, until he was audibly begging.

 

“Please -- please, fuck me -- I want to come,” he said, voice cutting in and out of coherency. He’d gone mad with it, until finally Hisoka stood up. He reached up and closed his hands around Illumi’s at Kurapika’s wrists, and squeezed. He and Illumi looked at one another, flush but quiet. Hisoka leaned in for another kiss and Illumi met him halfway, over Kurapika’s shoulder. Their lips met, and then their tongue, and Illumi bit at Hisoka’s bottom lip gently.

 

Illumi released his hold on Kurapika’s wrists but Hisoka’s hands took his place, forcing Kurapika still while Illumi pulled his own cock free, just through the slit of his pants. He thrust up, between Kurapika’s spread legs. He shifted, reaching down to put his hands behind Kurapika’s knees, and thrust up again. He nearly purred at the feeling, the sound sending gooseflesh over Kurapika’s body entirely.

 

Illumi aligned the head of his cock against Kurapika’s spit-slick entrance and pressed in. 

 

“Yes,” Kurapika said, eyes rolling shut.

 

Illumi pressed his mouth to the back of Kurapika’s ear and whispered, “Tight.”

 

Kurapika didn’t have the ability to explain it, how much he liked being stretched on a cock, that it was okay that it was tight; that he wanted it this way. He moaned feebly instead, head falling backwards onto Illumi’s shoulder as he pushed in. It hurt, but fuck if it wasn’t exactly how he wanted it. When he sat flush on Illumi’s cock his eyes rolled back.

 

Illumi lifted him up and then down again and pleasure rocketed through him; precum leaked down the line of his cock freely. He choked out, “Yes.”

 

Illumi did it again, and rocked upwards this time, and they both moaned softly. 

 

“Good?” Hisoka asked. Kurapika felt Illumi nod against his shoulder. Finally Hisoka let his arms go, and Kurapika felt the burning that would leave bruises later on his wrists. He reached out at the same moment Hisoka stepped in, cock in hand, and they collided in another kiss.

 

Illumi began to fuck him then. Hisoka’s hand closed around them both and matched Illumi as he rolled his hips up into Kurapika again and again. He bit Kurapika’s bottom lip until it split and used his free hand to jerk Kurapika’s face to the side, licking a line up his neck and behind his ear instead.

 

Kurapika held onto Hisoka’s arms, incapable of doing anything but tethering himself there, completely lost and crying out with each thrust, into the open air of the kitchen.

 

Illumi slouched down just enough and hit Kurapika exactly right inside, so that he nearly came from it, and was rewarded with a loud, gasping plea. He did it again. Kurapika shook his head, trying to push back. He was going to come. It was too soon; he wanted more. He was lost in the heady overhot feeling, smothered and blind to pure arousal. 

 

The harder he tried to slow the feeling, the harder Illumi fucked him, until the wet sound of him being fucked was a constant thrum surrounding them. The harder Hisoka jerked him off, until he was screaming as he came, the sound broken in the pure white-out of his mind. He felt the orgasm in pulses, rocketing through him again and again, pumping out of his cock over and over.

 

But it wasn’t over, because even though he came, Hisoka didn’t stop. Kurapika’s voice was hoarse and incoherent as hypersensitivity shook him from the inside out. “Please --” Illumi hit that spot again inside, harder this time, and he could only choke out: “Yes, god, please --” 

 

His eyes rolled back as he was pushed even further, to the point where it hurt, and he wanted it to stop, but he didn’t want it to stop, no -- he couldn’t breathe.

 

Tears blurred his vision and fell down his face, spit slid from his kiss-bitten lips, fingers aching with how hard they gripped Hisoka’s biceps. The feeling built in him again until his bleary, fucked-out consciousness managed to say, “I can’t -- I’m coming again -- I’m coming -- ah --” and his cry this time was cracked, echoing through the kitchen around them. He’d never come like this before, an orgasm inside that was so profound it shot through all his limbs and left him limp and shaking, vision whited out entirely for minutes as he was held up and fucked into incoherence.

 

Hisoka and Illumi’s fingers were entwined on the underside of Kurapika’s knee, keeping him spread, and Illumi said, voice hoarse and muffled against Hisoka’s mouth, “I’m coming --”

 

Hisoka looked down, at the place where Illumi’s cock spread Kurapika, and jerked himself until he was coming too, at the rim of Kurapika’s hole. He groaned, and over Kurapika’s shoulder, Illumi kissed him again, until they were breathless, and panting against each other. 

 

The sound of their heavy breathing was all that could be heard in the kitchen, as they all three sat there, still.

 

Kurapika felt the warm point where their fingers were entwined on his body and something painful and hollow seized him inside. It hurt. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. He needn’t to have been there at all. He had sat in the middle of something real and had been fucked within an inch of his life and it meant nothing in the face of Hisoka and Illumi’s love. He closed his eyes to the reality of it, the misery of his failure to take anything away from them. 

 

Slowly the three of them pulled apart. First, Hisoka, who helped ease Kurapika’s legs off Illumi’s thighs, helping him stand against the cold white tile of the kitchen. And then Illumi, who held Kurapika at his middle as he pulled the sweats back up his legs, even as cum slid down his thighs. 

 

His face was sticky from sweat, tears, and spit, and he refused to meet their eyes as he tried and was incapable of walking out of the room; thighs burning too hard, body utterly drained from two orgasms in succession. It was something he’d never experienced before. The weakness after left him incapable of even returning to the bedroom where he’d slept most of the day. Instead of collapsing on the floor, he was caught, easily.

 

Illumi carried him this time, just like Hisoka had the day before. 

 

Kurapika meant to argue about being placed into bed while filthy; cum cooling sticky in his borrowed clothes, but he’d fallen asleep instead, against the cool white covers.

 

He heard them talk as his eyelids drifted closed, pulled towards sleep.

 

“We said we would stop having sex in the kitchen,” Illumi said.

 

“We’ll be more careful to avoid it next time,” Hisoka replied. There was a muffled response and then laughter that drifted down the hall.

 

* * *

 

 

Early the next day Kurapika left without saying goodbye and transferred the entire three million dollar reward into Hisoka’s account. He noted with some hollow detachment that the name on the account did, in fact, say _Hisoka Zoldyck_.

 

He also noted, with the same numbed heart, that he hadn’t thought about Leorio in almost an entire day. 

 

_ 07:44AM Kurapika: The reward is in your account. _

_ 07:45AM Hisoka: *^_^v Come stay again when you are in Yorkshin, Pika. _

 

His finger hovered over the button to send. Finally, he pressed it, and boarded the airship away.

 

_ 07:48AM Kurapika: I will. _

_ 07:51AM Kurapika: Don’t call me that. _

**Author's Note:**

> http://smokesinatra.tumblr.com | http://em-anthony.tumblr.com


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